Mala: The dragon is born of flame and its egg requires the life-giving lava of its ancestral nesting site, a cavern deep inside the Grand Volcano.

Hiccup: So, what's it doin' out here?

Throk: Easy girl. It's all right.

Mala: The birth weakened our already aged Great Protector, so much so that she cannot fly to the sacred site.

Throk: We were able to spare the egg, but without proper nesting, it will not hatch.

Mala: Our only option is to transport the egg ourselves before the lava rises and floods the cavern.

Tuffnut: Whoa!

Mala: The future of our entire civilization rests on this egg's survival. If it fails to hatch, the Great Protector will not have an heir. And if there is no Eruptodon to eat the lava from the volcano, the island and our tribe is doomed.

Astrid: Guys, remember earlier when you both agreed Gronckles were good in lava conditions? Maybe Fishlegs and Meatlug should give it a try? You know, Eruptodons, Gronckles, both Boulder class. Hey, we tried it your way. Why not just-

Mala: We must transport the egg to the end of these caverns before the lava floods in. Quickly.

Tuffnut: Rother-bay Notlout-say e-way elcome-way ou-yay.

Snotlout: For the millionth time, you two, I don't understand anything you've been saying for the last three hours!

Ruffnut: Shh. It's okay, Boar Brother Snotlout.

Snotlout: Don't.

Ruffnut: No need to hide your proud roots.

Snotlout: Please stop.

Ruffnut: You're among your Boar Latin family now.

TuffnutSnotlout: Or should we say, amily-fay.

Astrid: Okay, that lava is getting a little too close to the entrance.

Throk: Not to worry, Astrid Hofferson. Queen Mala knows this volcano better than anyone on the island.

Astrid: They've been down there for a long time.

Throk: Yes. The lava is rising quickly. They should've returned by now.

Astrid: That settles it. We're going in.

Throk: I agree. But how? Those explosions are too dangerous and getting worse.

Astrid: If we just had a way to get down safely without dragons.

Tuffnut: Actually, we might have a lan-pay.

Hiccup: We'll make it.

Fishlegs: Uh, hey, you guys, what are those? Whoa!

Hiccup: Hmm.

Mala: There was a time when the tribal elders would climb down into these caverns and sacrifice themselves for the good of the tribe.

Fishlegs: Right, right, right, right. But, what are these figures?

Mala: I have never seen those before.

Hiccup: Uh, the egg? We should keep moving.

Fishlegs: Um, what was that?

Hiccup: Uh, I'm not sure.

Fishlegs: Please tell me those aren't bats.

Hiccup: Yeah, they're definitely not bats. Guard the egg! This must have been what the carving was trying to warn about.

Fishlegs: But there's too many. They're as relentless as Speed Stingers, so we should probably- Not exactly what I had in mind.

Hiccup: I'll direct them away while you and Meatlug get Mala and the egg to safety.

Fishlegs: Hiccup, these dragons eat fire.

Hiccup: Fishlegs, that is abundantly clear.

Mala: No!

Hiccup: Mala!

Mala: Stay away.

Fishlegs: They outnumber her three to one.

Hiccup: Then we need to even the odds. Ah, now what?

Fishlegs: I don't know. I thought you had the idea.

Mala: Hiccup Haddock. No! Fishlegs Ingerman.

Fishlegs: We'll never make it to her in time. Meatlug, roll!

Hiccup: Meatlug, fly!

Mala: Stop! No!

Snotlout: The Diving Bell was your big "lan-pay"? You flew all the way to Berk for a big hunk of metal to dangle over fire? Why not bring back a frying pan? How umb-day are they?

Tuffnut: It's uncanny. There's no trace of an accent.

Ruffnut: To talk that eloquently, he must be at least a quarter boar.

Tuffnut: Maybe two-fifths. He is hairy in strange places.

Snotlout: Hey!

Throk: Actually, I believe this could work. If we were to invert it, and then coat it in Eruptodon saliva. It won't last long but should be enough to reach the cavern, find them, and raise them to safety. I'll get to work.

Hiccup: Oh, great, now what?

Mala: Which direction?

Hiccup: Left.

Fishlegs: Right.

Hiccup: Oh, Gods.

Fishlegs: What is going on with us?

Hiccup: We're just not thinking. We need to clear our heads.

Fishlegs: Right, right. Good idea.

Hiccup: Right.

Fishlegs: Left?

Hiccup: Ugh!

Fishlegs: Oh, maybe we're cursed.

Hiccup: No. There is a perfectly logical explanation for what's happening. Of course, I can't think of it right now.